


What Might Have Been

by Dayntee



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 00:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16629377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayntee/pseuds/Dayntee
Summary: On the (few days) eve of the confrontation with Thaos, Watcher Idralia considers her poorly concealed feelings about a certain disaster wizard and whether acting on them is the right choice.





	What Might Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> Idralia is the Watcher I have been playing both PoE 1 and 2 over at my Twitch channel. This could be considered a companion piece/additional head-cannon to my play-throughs. This work contains spoilers for Pillars of Eternity (1).
> 
> Relevant Play-through Choices: Iselmyr was suppressed, Aloth was encouraged to hunt down rather than reform the Leaden Key, Idralia’s key characteristics were Honest (4), Benevolent (4), and Diplomatic (3).

It hadn't taken Idralia long to recognize how often her eyes would linger on her travel companion. He had been the first to join her on her journey and, although the whole "awakened soul" situation had been unnerving at first, Aloth had become someone to whom she could naturally confide. Iselmyr was still the occasional surprise in her own right, but no one understood the echoing chaos in her head better than Aloth could.

At first, he was quiet and reserved with her, as he was with everyone. Once he had confessed the nature of his unusual outbursts and revealed Iselmyr's existence, though, there was a notable relaxation in his day to day posture when they conversed. Whether it was in the confines of Caed Nua or around the campfire during night watch, discussions about the Wheel, animancy, souls, the Leaden Key, and the nature of both of their conditions became frequent. In time, the subjects began to steer more mundane, yet personal; Idralia shared her adventures across the Deadfire Archipelago as a deckhand while she learned of more of the civilized (if cloistered) life Aloth had lived. Their pasts, despite being drastically different in environment, held more in common the deeper they delved.

They listened intently to one another, and while neither were storytellers in their own right, it was clear they each found the other fascinating. When she realized this was causing her heart to tighten at his smile, reserved laugh, or the accidental bump into his person, she wasn't certain what to do with the revelation.

On the one hand, she was a painfully honest woman. It never sat right with her to keep secrets, and she trusted her companions to do the same once they grew to know her. Often that was why she wore her heart on her sleeve; a forthright leader was an easy one to follow. Certainly, this resulted in her bearing the burden of others' pain or manipulations, but she preferred it that way. At least, then, it felt as though she retained some measure of control and could truly make a difference.

On the other, the notion of anything remotely romantic would further complicate matters. She wasn't even certain she would survive her condition or the confrontation with Thaos. From what she had pieced together, confronting Thaos was how her previous life had ended. Would it not be more cruel to build a close bond, only to sever it?

Neither of those weights even considered whether or not he shared her feelings. Certainly there was a connection between them, but there was a connection between her and all of her companions. Even Durance (not that she'd call it a fondness by any measure).

She paced about her room in the comfort of Caed Nua, thinking deeply on it. The end was nearing; they had cornered Thaos, knew where he was, and there was little more to do than simply end it. She had returned to the warmth of the keep one final time, adamant about ensuring she left the Steward with clear instructions should this final journey prove fatal. Most of the others had decided it was a fine time for a last hurrah, and she could hear the cheers, laughter, and clanking of mugs echo from the halls below. Finally, she sat on her bed with a huff and a groan, dropping her face into her hands in futility.

Her companion, a sleek antelope she had "cleverly" named Cantelope due to his affinity for the fruit, raised his head from the foot of the bed at the disturbance. He leaned his long neck forward, nuzzling an arm, his tongue darting out to lick affectionately. With a small chuckle, she hugged him close. Prior to becoming a Watcher, Cantelope was the last of friends she had kept from an otherwise lonely life.

She idly scratched the beast's chin, watching his eyes close as he enjoyed the affection. 'Is it worth it?' she wondered, especially if it could be nothing more than a fleeting moment before death? 'Since when did I become so pessimistic?' her eyebrows knit together, and she startled at the firm knock on the door. The splash of blonde and a bushy beard surrounding two of the brightest blue eyes she knew brought a smile to her face.

"Come in, Edér," she offered, and Cantelope immediately stood, trotting over to what was (most likely) his favorite human. Edér's smile broadened and he closed the door behind him, kneeling down to scratch the eager antelope's head and ruffle his flank vigorously.

"Was wonderin' where ya went off to. Folks're lookin' for ya downstairs," Cantelope had laid down on his side and Edér began scratching his stomach. "I know ya ain't much the social type, but they'd probably like to hear from their fearless leader."

'Fearless, how ironic,' Idralia thought to herself, laughing sardonically and Edér gave her a curious look. She shook her head as if to say it was nothing, but her brows knit together and she looked down.

"What's on yer mind, Watcher?" the warrior stood up and pulled a chair from against the wall, sitting in front of her and leaning his elbows in on his knees, his clear blue eyes giving her a discerning gaze. "Clearly ya got somethin' botherin' ya, an' I'm all ears,"

Idralia gave an honest, if reserved, smile and nodded slowly. "I... appreciate that Edér. You've become one of my closest friends in all... this," she gestured as if to indicate not just Caed Nua but... everything. He'd been one of the first she'd encountered, aside from...

"It's Aloth, innit?" her cheeks flushed and before she could say anything, he continued. "Watcher, I'm pretty sure the only one who hasn't noticed the way ya look at him is him," Edér leaned back in his chair and pulled out his smoking pipe, stuffing it with a generous pinch of whiteleaf. "For all that brain he's got, sometimes he can't see what's right in front of him,"

"That obvious, huh?" she said quietly, and he glanced up from rustling around in his pouch for tinder. He chuckled.

"I never claimed to be all smarts, but I know an achin' heart when I see one. So what're ya sittin' up here for?" he struck a flame into his pipe and puffed thoroughly to light the sweet-smelling plant. Cantelope huffed with annoyance and buried his nose into Edér's thigh to stifle the stench.

"It just... seems like there's too much to lose," her voice was still quiet, barely above a mumble, and her friend tilted his head as if to ask her to explain further. "You've all become so important to me. Close friends, even family. Something I haven't had in many years," she furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure I can lose that, especially not in a way which is... avoidable,"

"The only thing yer avoidin' is the truth. An' if I've come to know ya at all, then that's not sittin' right with ya," he let a long drag of smoke lose, wafting his hand to help disperse it more quickly. She didn't care much for whiteleaf herself, but she'd long since accepted Edér's vice and the scent had become familiar and comforting in its own right.

"You're right, of course," she smiled again, almost sadly. "It isn't like me, but... I can't see it as anything other than being selfish. There's a good chance I'm not going to survive this... thing... I've got a purpose, a duty, to fulfill, and I can't let anything stand in the way of that,"

"Listen, Iddy," she crinkled her nose at the moniker Edér had gifted her months ago, for the sole purpose of annoying her (or so she believed). "Ya take everythin' onto yerself. Just once, just this once... ya should take a chance for yerself. Now, I can't tell ya what ta do, but... I just don't like seein' that sadness in yer eyes," he screwed his face into a lopsided frown. "It don't suit ya."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reaching up to tug at a stray strand of hair, curling it around her finger. "We'll... we'll see," she conceded, glancing over at him again with her, now warmer, dark eyes. "Thank you. I'm not a fan of second guessing myself,"

"Nah, that's the other elf's job," he grinned, and leaned forward to pat his calloused hand on Idralia's shoulder. "We all trust you, Iddy. Trust yerself," he let the words hang in the air for a moment before she nodded, and Edér stood, giving Cantelope one last pat on the head before he opened the door. "Oh, an'... I think he's in the library. Least ways, that's where it looked like he went."

She watched Edér leave, Cantelope following behind him as he left the door open, and she sighed, looking forward without focus. 'Well, I guess if it doesn't work out... then I chuck myself down a hole and I really have nothing left for Thaos to take,' she mused to herself, finding a sort of morbid comfort in the thought.

She stood and walked over to the dresser in her room, where a bottle of Aedyran mead rested. 'With gratitude, Gedmar Doemenel,' the label read, and she had left the bottle largely untouched, half in suspicion it might be poisoned and half to save for a special occasion. Hiravias had checked it for her, reassuring it would only poison her as much as alcohol was meant to, before asking for a drought himself. She'd gladly obliged for the favor and saved the rest for a later time.

"Well, I'm running out of that," she mumbled, before taking the bottle by the neck and leaving the room.

* * *

She stood in the doorway for a moment, finding Aloth exactly where Edér had indicated, seated away from her in one of the large, comfortable chairs in Brighthaven, flipping idly through a book in his lap. She noticed he wasn't spending long on each page, and she assumed he was either skimming or simply looking busy to avoid having to socialize with the others. 'He probably wants to be left alone,' she thought, but before she could change her mind, his head turned in her direction, and he turned further in his chair to address her with a smile.

"Ah, the Watcher finally reveals herself," there was a playfulness in his words and she gave a sheepish grin. "I'm afraid you've gone the wrong direction for the party."

"Heh, I've never been much of one for parties... What's your excuse?" she leaned against the door frame and raised an eyebrow at him.

"After the third round, Hiravias challenged Durance to a drinking competition and, quite frankly, I'd rather not learn what new level of stench our Magran friend is capable of," he wrinkled his nose and Idralia grimaced in agreement.

"Well, if you don't mind a  _little_ company, I have something I thought you'd like," she walked forward, holding out the bottle of mead in one hand and lifting a couple of mugs in the other. He took the bottle from her as she passed and inspected the label, his eyebrows raising appreciatively.

"I'd be honored. Thank you," she held out the mugs in each hand and Aloth filled them before taking one for himself, tilting it forward in a gesture of gratitude. Idralia smiled, clinked her mug to his, and leaned back into the chair before taking a slow, savoring drink. It was a little lower than room temperature, and she closed her eyes, letting her senses follow the cool liquid down her throat, turning to warmth as the alcohol settled in her stomach.

"You don't often let yourself have these moments, do you?" he asked, and she opened her eyes immediately to meet his bemused look. Fighting a flush (or hoping the excuse of alcohol would be enough of a defense), she smiled helplessly.

"It's definitely been a long time since I bothered. You lot have all brought me a joy and peace I haven't felt in... well, a long time. Weird given the circumstances, but I guess it's... just nice to belong somewhere," her gaze drifted quickly from Aloth to the golden liquid in her mug, and she slowly began swirling the brew to keep her hands busy.

She didn't see the warm smile he returned to her, but she could hear the tilt of his lips in his voice as he answered. "You have given us all something, Idralia. For me, something I'm not entirely sure I can ever repay. I am glad to have been of some level of service in return,"

"No one obliterates an angry pack of xaurhips fasted than you do, my talented friend," she tilted her mug his way in a half toast and he shrugged unapologetically.

"Not quite what I meant, but I appreciate the compliment,"

For a time, they quietly enjoyed the crackle of the nearby fire, the warmth the mead in their mugs brought with each drink, and the distant laughs, crashes, and other suspicious sounds of revelry that echoed across the halls. Perhaps to some, a silence such as this might be awkward or uncomfortable, but that had never been the case for Idralia. She was a ranger, used to long nights with no background music but the cacophony of crickets or the crashing of waves against the hull of a ship. For her, it was never truly silent; there was always a symphony of some sort to appreciate and, though he'd never made it specifically clear, Aloth seemed the type to enjoy quiet company.

As her mug began to feel lighter in her grip, a flicker of courage began to grow in her heart. Before she could stop herself, she began.

"Hey, Aloth?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, giving her his rapt attention. 'No turning back now,' she thought, and, for what might have been the first time in her life, she pored over her words carefully before sharing them. She knew this conversation could change everything.

"Assuming everything goes... as well as it can, what do you plan to do after we defeat Thaos?"

The question seemed to hit him suddenly, like it was something he hadn't genuinely pondered. For a moment, he was silent, scrunching his eyebrows together the way he always did when he gave something considerable thought.

"I suppose it seemed so distant before I hadn't considered that far ahead. I suppose..." he hesitated, casting a glance her way that was almost indicating his next words were as much a question as a statement. "I suppose there will still be plenty of Leaden Key business to clean up in Thaos' absence. I would be remiss to do anything other than continue making right the wrongs I've contributed to."

"So you'd hunt them down? The whole sect?" Idralia raised an eyebrow, wondering if Aloth had truly considered the scope of his words.

"As many as I could," he offered, as though that were a more reasonable goal, and Idralia gave him a helpless smile.

"That's a tall order,"

"Well, someone I know well has taught me we all have a duty in this world to make it better in whatever way we can," she felt heat rise in her cheeks again and she could not meet his gaze. His smirk faltered for a moment. "And you?"

She paused as well, contemplating her next answer very carefully. "Well, I mean... of course assuming the best of things... I've become the Lady of Caed Nua. I guess my place is... here," Truly, she was torn. As much as she wanted to offer to help him, as much as she longed for him to never leave her side, Caed Nua wasn't just her home, it was her duty. She had fought to claim it, fought to keep hold of it, fought to defend it—any course of action that would cause her to abandon it seemed distasteful at best and abhorrent at worst.

"It... makes sense," there was a hesitation in his voice she couldn't quite place. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the chance had already passed. "Caed Nua has become your home. You always said you would like to know that feeling," he offered her a smile, but there was something hollow and unsaid behind it.

'You can't do it, can you?' she realized, thoughts whirring at lightning speed. 'You can't ask him to be something he isn't, to tell him to stay, to not follow his instincts. Otherwise, what was the point in helping him stand up for himself? What was the point in helping him overcome Iselmyr's control, come to terms with his past, and learn to be his own being?'

"I did, didn't I?" she mused softly, looking down into the remainder of the mead in her mug, rapidly disappearing like the time she had left with her companions. Surely they would all leave when it was done, returning to their individual lives, their independent paths, their own duties. This was her home... not theirs.

"Is that... what you actually want?" he asked quietly, softly enough she nearly missed it. He'd cornered her now; there were only so many ways she could answer without lying and yet still avoid the truth in her heart. Instead, she looked up and their eyes locked. Another silence passed between them, but it was more meaningful than any conversation that could have occurred in its place. Her heart tightened painfully in her chest, and she swallowed down her impulse. Finally, she answered.

"What I want is selfish. After everything you've... all given... I don't think I have the right to ask anything more," each word was carefully selected, crafted to be ambiguous, yet hoping he parsed her meaning.

He closed his eyes, and her breath hitched for a moment. His mug came up and he took a long drink, longer than the others, and she realized he was finishing what was left. When he lowered it, he met her gaze again, accompanied by a soft, warm smile.

"You deserve a lot more than you think," he set the mug down on the side table next to his chair, tapping the rim for a moment before continuing. "Thank you for sharing this with me," there was genuine gratitude in his voice, and she knew he was talking about more than the mead. Whether it was the evening as a whole or whatever he had interpreted from their conversation, she wasn't quite certain.

"You'll always be welcome here," she blurted, and she flushed again, this time the blood rushing up her long ears as his smile took on a more playful shape. "Caed Nua's doors will always be open to my friends," she more diplomatically clarified, but it was far too late to save face. He knew. He  _had_ to know.

"And I will always remember that," he slowly stood, and offered his hand to her. "Perhaps it's time we get rest. As always, I've lost track of the hour in our conversation and we have quite the journey ahead of us."

She glanced at his hand, then the remaining mead in her mug and finished it briskly before accepting his help up. He was not a particularly physical being, unlike Edér and his constant pats or nudges, and she took the opportunity to give his hand a gentle squeeze. 'That's it, then,' she accepted, knowing the chance had passed but feeling it was for the best. To her surprise, rather than releasing her immediately, he let the hold on her linger and squeezed back in response. It was a small, momentary gesture, yet her heart fluttered regardless.

Perhaps Thaos wouldn't be the end, and perhaps their paths would cross once more. 'If it does,' she pondered silently as they walked the halls that had quieted in the late hour of their shared drink, 'I'm not sure I'll be able to let him go again.'


End file.
